Another Harvey dominated much the news cycle the past two weeks. This one was named Weinstein. The powerful Hollywood film producer has been accused of sexually harassing and assaulting dozens of women over the course of years. The high-profile scandal is like the hurricane that ripped through Texas for another reason. It distracts us from what’s happening all around us.
That’s the context in which Kylynn Machir began her story at the October Mudrooms event themed “After the Storm.” The 26-year-old Juneau resident had been raped six years earlier. She didn’t report it to anyone then or after it happened again a year later.
Instead she ran. For two years she moved in and out of three states. Eight times. Then her father, a 30-year mental health professional, observed her self-destructive behavior and named the crime for her.
Unlike the Weinstein case, her assailant wasn’t her boss or a professional associate. He wasn’t some deranged lunatic either. It was someone she trusted entirely. Her partner.
To many readers, this has all the makings of a “he said/she said” conflict. Don’t we get to hear his side, they might ask.
The more appropriate question is captured in the title of Irin Carmonin’s recent Washington Post commentary — “Why are so many men confused about what sexual consent means?”
That’s a big part of Machir’s story. “Maybe my “no” wasn’t loud enough,” she wondered. “Maybe if I fought a little harder.”
Those responses were triggered by one of the dominant male arguments surrounding sexual violence. It was the woman’s fault.
The same blame-the-victim game that fails to hold men accountable for sexual misconduct is why some don’t understand that no means “No!” And it desensitizes many others to the genuine anguish felt by women subjected to nonconsensual sexual aggression.
Machir suffered. But she’s not seeking justice now. She didn’t name her former partner. Not that anyone in the audience would know him, because it happened hundreds of miles from here. But even there, she said she had distanced herself from their mutual friends because she “didn’t want to defame anybody’s character.”
What she hopes to do is to help women like her avoid the situation which almost ruined her life. And men can do their part acknowledging the complicity of traditions which enable our gender to sexually dominate theirs.
One place to examine the problem is the U.S. military. It’s been almost completely imponent in fighting the scourge of sexual violence and abuse within its ranks. The case of Col. Ronald S. Jobo is the latest evidence. He should have been court martialed for repeated, unwanted sexual contact with a civilian woman who worked for him. But a three-star general, male of course, decided not to prosecute him despite irrefutable evidence that included hundreds of his self-incriminating text messages.
This is more than a general protecting one of his own though. The lack of concern he and other commanders habitually show for the trauma experienced by the victim, or her right to seek justice, is deeply rooted in multiple male privilege narratives.
Internationally, rape was condoned as the legitimate spoils of war until 1993. What makes that more relevant is that’s the same year marital rape was finally outlawed in all 50 states.
But in almost a dozen of those, saying “No” means nothing. They excuse the defendant if the act wasn’t preceded by force or threat of force. It has to be accompanied by enough kicking and screaming to elicit violence in return. Otherwise, consent is inferred
Beyond the question of consent are the traditions which continue to more harshly judge the female in cases of teenage sex, unwanted pregnancies and extramarital affairs. Excusing “locker room talk” as benign “boys will be boys” humor perpetuates the objectification of women as sexual objects.
Collectively, we men don’t have a clue what it’s like to live on the other side of these unjust cultural norms. And many don’t want to know because it could erode the ultimate male privilege of power.
To paraphrase the Prussian General Carl von Clausewitz, sexual violence is the continuation of male superiority by other means. It worked for Harvey Weinstein and others like him. And among the less rich and famous, it’s enabling otherwise decent men to be confused about the meaning of No.
Editor’s Note: The Empire typically does not identify rape victims or survivors, but in this instance, Kylnn has granted us permission to share her story.
• Rich Moniak is a Juneau resident and retired civil engineer with more than 25 years of experience working in the public sector. He contributes a regular “My Turn” to the Juneau Empire. My Turns and Letters to the Editor represent the view of the author, not the view of the Juneau Empire.
